Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind: Awakening
by OnkelJo
Summary: After the last crisis seems averted, the fates bring Jonny Gerthson back to Eureka for recuperation. However, things are heating up... Third installment of "Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind", allegedly the first Castle-Self Insert (SI) on this site. Castle Ficathon 2017 entry. Castle/Eureka/Chuck crossover. Cover art by @dtrekker.
1. Awakening

**After getting through all of my exams, and the chaos that ensued, and finally realizing that the Castle Ficathon was already underway since a few months, I decided that I still wanted to try. Less than a month for 15000 words (the Mini Ficathon), but I'm confident.**

 **This is the third installment of "Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind"; if you haven't already read the other two, you'll be massively confused. You can certainly try, though ;)**

 **Word count: 3096**

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 **Chapter 1: Awakening**

Flashes of the images from my trip through the wormholes burned into the inside of my eyelids, my forehead only receiving more pain the more I began to come to consciousness.

 _Ow._

A female voice hammered its way into my ear canal and drowned out any thoughts of my own, so I brought myself to listen.

"-ice to see you awaken, Agent Solus."

Considering that I had been in New York City, last I remembered, being called Agent Solus was disconcerting. "How long was I out?" was what I wanted to say, but all that came out of my mouth was some croaking "'ow 'ng 's I ou'?". _Bwah, I hate cotton mouth._

"Relax, Morten. You're still recovering from the ordeal that you've been through."

I managed a weak nod that barely moved my head an inch or so and started gesticulating for something to drink, as I didn't trust my own voice to actually communicate right now. My strength was enough for about five seconds of swaying my limbs in a somewhat coordinated fashion before I sagged back in exhaustion. At least my mind was clearing enough to realize that I was currently in some form of hospital bed, with my upper body being propped up at an angle, which also meant that if I needed to drink (which I did), I wouldn't have to move around much. That sounded very promising right now. I was almost about to start weakly flailing my arms again when I felt a straw touch my lip.

I could have cried in relief, it there hadn't been so much effort involved. Somehow I managed to keep myself in check, at least a little bit, and gingerly had the first sips of the cool liquid hit my mouth. A happy sigh escaped, and I finally pulled up enough willpower to open my eyes as I was happily sucking on that straw.

At least I was somewhere familiar. I blinked a couple of times, just to be sure, since the afterimages from the wormhole were still leaving small flashes behind. This was definitely the med bay inside GD headquarters. Sure enough, now that my brain had supplied that bit of information, my head turned around to where I had last heard the voice and saw Allison Blake sitting next to my bed, of course clad in her lab coat.

"Thank you," I finally offered, my mouth sufficiently moistened.

She scoffed slightly. "No thanks needed. After what you've done for all of us, it's the least I could do."

I closed my eyes again and heaved out another sigh before letting a small smile settle on my face. "Still. It would be impolite, and I wasn't raised like that."

"Fine, I'll accept your thanks," she laughed and put the cup back down. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," I shot back, my eyes back open and staring at her. "Everything below neck just feels exhausted at the moment, but the wormholes left behind a nasty headache. I don't know what it did, or how long I was out. But at least pain means I'm still alive, right? That is _something,_ I guess."

At least it made her laugh. Not that I expected to get another reply to that. I sunk back into the mattress, and swallowed what would have been the third sigh this minute down. "Right… well, since it didn't work last time, I'll ask again. How long was I out, doc?"

I could have sworn that I felt the mood shift when I asked that question, and she took a few seconds before she answered, her voice growing quiet all of a sudden. "Eight days now, Morten."

That was… longer than I had expected. Way longer.

"Do you know what happened? Details are… a little hazy right now."

She grimaced and shook her head. "Sadly, only what we could discern from when you were brought here. Internal bleeding, partial organ failure, second degree burns _inside_ your body and some other, non-life-threatening injuries all over the place."

"Impressive," I muttered as my brain tried to process those new pieces of information. "With those kinds of injuries, I don't think that I would have expected to wake up at all."

"Well, you know how Eureka works," Allison said with a raised eyebrow. "There are only a few things that we consider truly impossible here, and at least some of those might just be a matter of time."

I nodded silently and closed my eyes again for a few long moments. "Fine, doc. Lay it on me."

"What do you mean?" she asked, clearly feigning ignorance.

I scoffed and glared at her, the smirk on my lips taking almost all the bite out of it. "Please, Allison. I'm injured, not stupid. You've had eight days to stitch me back together; by now, chances are I'm either half cyborg or an invalid, at least for the foreseeable future. So... what's it going to be?"

I got the distinct impression that she didn't really want to answer, but then she sighed and I knew the dam was broken. And I didn't even have to bring out the sad puppy eyes, which was an added bonus.

"A little bit of both, I'm afraid," she started. "The higher-ups decreed that we should spare no expenses to ensure your continued survival."

That didn't sound so bad… until I remembered that we were in Eureka. 'Top of the line' meant something different here.

Allison turned around and pulled up some data on her tablet. "Additional bone weave, artificial muscle fibers, some slight genetic modifications to accelerate the healing process. Some of it is highly experimental as you can imagine-"

"No shit," I muttered, barely realizing that I had said that out loud.

Blake didn't even acknowledge what I had said and continued. "... which means you're not only alive, you're also kind of our guinea pig. Some of the things that are now inside of your body will need to be monitored regularly. Not that you would be in any condition to go anywhere, but still, for the duration of this… 'medical trial'... you are not allowed to leave town. Both for your and our sake."

In that moment, I wished for a desk that I could butt my head against. "How long are we talking about?"

Allison shrugged. "Depends solely on you, and how well you take to the foreign material and tissue inside your body. The longest time would obviously be needed if you reject the implants. That could very well mean a year or two, depending on whether or not we can isolate why your body rejects it. I know that you won't like it that you have to stay in town for so long, but it was the only way we could afford to put that much tech in you to keep you alive."

She even looked fairly sincere in the frown that was supposed to soften the blow, which made me feel a little guilty about hating her a bit right now. What with her saving my life and all. "And best case scenario?"

Another shrug. I hated her a little bit more. "Three to six months, realistically. Even if you take your new parts well, we would still need to confirm why. That's the price for getting very expensive replacements parts put inside you."

This time, my glare didn't come with a smile. "To be perfectly honest, I really don't like you a little bit right now."

That she started laughing at that comment didn't help.

"I can tell," she said, the frown now replaced by a smirk. "Now shoo, you're apparently feeling well enough to gripe, so you're well enough to walk out of here." _But I'm still sore! And the mattress is so soft!_

"Don't overdo yourself, and come back tomorrow for a check up," she amended and rolled her eyes after I hit her with my best 'hurt puppy' look. "Daily check ups for a week, every other day for two weeks after that, and then twice a week for at least six weeks, probably more. Also, thanks to a lot of strings being pulled, we've gotten some 'out-of-town help' for your recovery."

I perked up a little upon hearing that. "Really? Who is it?"

The smirk she was sporting morphed into a teasing smile. "You're supposed to be the Secret Agent. Go find out."

I huffed at her antics. "Fine. Be like that if you must. Can't I at least get a hint?"

Allison apparently took pity on me, because she actually responded to that, which I hadn't expected to be honest. "You haven't heard it from me, but at this time of the day," she said after a quick glance on her watch, "you might want to take a look at Café Diem. I'll even be nice today, after all you've just woken up, and call Carter to give you a ride."

The man wouldn't be too keen on my continued presence in town for the foreseeable future, which, despite a healthy sense of self-esteem, I couldn't fault him for. On the other hand, he was a stand-up guy, and if I ever wanted to actually become friends with him, I would have to put in some effort.

Maybe not today, though; but with how sore I felt, I had no qualms accepting a ride with the Sheriff. At this point I would even accept a ride from Taggart, if it meant not having to walk.

"That would be very nice, indeed," I said, trying not to let my inner monologue show too much. With that, I sat up on the bed with a sigh, swung my legs over the edge and gingerly tried standing.

It took a moment to get used to standing again, but apart from the immense soreness, I was surprisingly okay. It only felt like having spent a day digging through a garden instead of having spent a day being pummeled by both Klitschko brothers. _Nice._

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As expected, even though Allison was the one calling, Sheriff Carter was less than pleased to be my personal chauffeur, but, since Allison was the one calling, he tried to keep those feelings to himself. At least until we were out of earshot, or so I thought. "Glad you're not dead."

I gave him a sidelong glance as we 'walked and talked'. That was not exactly what I expected. Not exactly warm; but not hostile either. "Me too," was all I offered, a cautious response which seemed to sate his appetite for conversation for the moment.

In fact, those were about all the words that we exchanged until we were in the car. Those five minutes it had taken to go from Allison's lab to the Sheriff's SUV had been very long. I climbed in, and congratulated myself for getting my labored breathing under control before Carter had walked around the car and climbed into the driver's seat. Before he turned the keys to start the engine, however, he turned to face me. "So… how do you feel?"

I would have thought that Allison had kept the upper echelon of Eureka updated on my status, but since he made the effort - and I had _just_ promised myself to do the same - I decided to humor him. "Not too bad, considering."

Filthy lies; I felt terrible. I was sore, the five minute walk to the car should have been two, and only my pride had kept me from leaning on him on the way. On the other hand, not too many people could claim they walked through a couple of wormholes, not to mention still living on the other side. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought, so I decided to share a little more.

"I'm still sore all over. Walking is a pain in the ass, quite literally." That at least had him grin a little bit. "I apparently am somewhat half cyborg, which is equal parts cool and very, very terrifying. I still haven't really wrapped my head around it, so I'm sure once that happens, I will have a proper freakout. Not to mention I have 'appointments with Doctor Blake' for the next three months, because they want to ensure that their walking investment is working to the highest standards."

We both rolled our eyes at that. At least we had that much in common. He started the car and got on the road, the wind blowing through my short hair as he opened the windows.

"But, as you may have noticed, I'm still alive," I said, fake cheer lacing my tone. "That's gotta count for something, right?"

"Right," Carter snorted at my sarcasm, "as long as you don't start quoting Terminator while I'm in earshot, we're golden. Otherwise, I'm liable to shoot you," he added with a smile.

I raised an eyebrow. "What, no love for the classics?"

He gave me an exasperated look, although the smile stayed in place. "Son, you are barely allowed to watch those movies, that's how young you are."

We continued bickering in good fun for what seemed to be hours, right up to when we pulled into the parking spot in front of Café Diem.

"Well, here we are, Morten," the Sheriff said as he unlocked the car doors. "Off you go."

Apparently he wanted me out of his car and off his back, and I was more than happy to oblige; I still had a mystery guest to find. I patted his shoulder and stepped out before leaning in through the window. "Thanks for the ride, Sheriff Carter. Tell Sarah and your daughter that I said hi."

I didn't wait to see his reaction; by the time my words were registered, I had already turned around and was jogging over to the entrance. That also had the most welcome side effect that Carter couldn't see my smirk.

I took a deep breath once I was inside letting the myriads of delicious smells wash over me. For all the accidents and mishaps Eureka was subjecting its inhabitants to, the one constant silver lining to _everything_ was Vincent's café and its exquisite delicacies. It smelled heavenly in here, day and night.

A quick cursory glance over the crowd inside did nothing to sate my curiosity; all the people in here I recognized as locals. Mostly scientists, but also a few teens. I couldn't remember if Tesla High was on holiday, but if they weren't, those kids were definitely skipping class. I didn't worry though. It would be a dramatic statistical outlier to have more than one kid skipping class at all, and then all of them going to Vincent's on top of that. Not that I could fault them for trying; I would probably murder for his food, let alone skip class.

"Hi Morten!" the man in question greeted from behind the counter, waving at me with a dish towel in hand and a friendly smile on his face.

The 'mission' temporarily forgotten, I wasted no time going over and greeting him with a short hug over the counter.

"My favorite citizen of Eureka! Do you have any experiments I could help you with?" I asked with a smirk, knowing full well that there never wasn't one.

Vincent's smile only grew at that. "See, that's why I like you so much! Wait a minute, I have to go get it from the freezer." The cloth was thrown haphazardly to the side and Vincent ducked into the back of the shop where that giant fridge of his was storing all those goodies that made my mouth water just by thinking of them.

Thankfully, he was really only gone a minute, or else the plan to rob him blind would have taken actual forms. I knew that the food was free of charge, theoretically… but there just was something about actually owning it that made me feel a little tingly all over. When he came back, he was holding a platter for me to see and put it on the counter, removing the metal top with a flourish.

There, on a small white plate, sat a yellow orb, roughly the size of a marble, .

My eyes wandered from the orb to Vincent, then back to the orb, then back to Vincent. "So… are you going to tell me something about this orb?" I asked with a smile.

Vincent just smirked. "Nope." Then he shrugged, his eyes gleaming with joy. "Well, maybe don't bite into it if you don't want a mess."

I gave him a flat stare. I knew a setup when I saw it. "If I bite into this and it turns out to be ultra spicy, I'm going to slap you. Still want me to try it?"

He laughed, shrugged, and crossed his arms. Threatening him with bodily harm would have usually revealed any plot to trick me into eating things, so I shrugged as well and popped the marble into my mouth.

"Don't bite it; just keep it there and let the magic happen."

I raised an eyebrow at that, but complied anyway. And boy was I rewarded for that. The outside of the ball felt like an ice cube, and grew gradually warmer as it melted. The inside was still liquid and almost too hot to eat, but still pleasant. My whole mouth was filled with the taste of fruits, of which I informed Vincent after I swallowed it down. The whole ordeal had maybe lasted a minute, probably less.

"Mango, pineapple, papaya… a hint of vanilla as well," I commented appreciatively. "What's with the texture?"

"Flash frozen," he revealed with a proud smile. "An almost boiling smoothie coated in layers of ice."

I gave him a high five over the counter. "Nice!"

He chuckled at my antics, and nodded slightly towards the door. "I would love to take more of your time, but I think I'd need to get in line now."

That reminded me of why I had come here in the first place. I had a few guesses, but all of them went flying out of the window when I turned around.

The breath I hadn't realized I had held in was released when I found words again; even then, all that came out was her name.

" _Alexis?!"_


	2. Confessions

**Things have been bad today. Nightmare. Tears. Shivers. The whole shebang. On the other hand, my muses seem to favor me when I'm at my lowest; I put down well over two thousand words today alone. This chapter is very prominently tear fueled on the author's side. Nonetheless, despite how you might think after reading it, I am still sane (relatively speaking), and I have a plan (relatively speaking). Do not fret.**

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 **Revised word count: 5734 words**

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 **Chapter 2: Confessions  
**

The familiar redhead stared at me from across the room with her mouth wide open, and I don't think I was looking any better.

Once she got over the first initial shock, she crossed the few feet between us in a second. She didn't jump into my arms, for which I was very grateful, obviously. She did, however, rush into me and hug me tightly. Not quite to the point of pain, but I winced, just to be safe.

It was at least effective, she let go of me instantly. Then she slapped me across the cheek; and then hugged me again, softer this time.

"You promised," she whispered into my shoulder, my shirt getting a bit damp. "You promised that you wouldn't do something so dangerous ever again." _Or so stupid,_ but that part went unsaid.

My cheek stung, but I really enjoyed those hugs. Nonetheless, I gingerly peeled myself away from her and took in her face. She didn't have much makeup on, but her subtle mascara was starting to run anyway, and her lips were trembling. I reached back and pulled a napkin from the counter. With a quick motion, I started dabbing at her tear ducts, careful not to smudge the makeup any more.

"I promised that I'd try to be better, not that I wouldn't do it anymore. Also, it was a really big emergency. You know me, I wouldn't risk my life just willy nilly," I said lowly as I finished up drying her tears.

"What was it this time?" she asked, her voice still brimming with unshed tears.

I grimaced as I heard that question. "That's classified, I'm afraid. All I can say is that it was for the government and that it was bad. But don't worry, it has been dealt with." That wasn't exactly safe to talk about so it was time to change the subject. "Now, how did you even get here?"

She seemed to squirm a little, which seemed a little odd. "Dad happened," was her explanation, as if that said it all.

Somehow, it kind of did.

"Once we learned that you were missing again, and that certain elements were involved, he threatened to go public with you if we didn't get to see you. We were contacted by a very generous General who promised us a trip to Gitmo if we talked about what we were going to see. Then, one of us was allowed to go come here - wherever 'here' is - and when we thought about who was going to go, it turned out that everyone else had other commitments already," she said and ducked her head away a little.

I raised an eyebrow. "Nice to know how high I rank on your list of priorities."

"Ass," she muttered under her breath and tried to swat my arm, which I pulled from the danger zone just in time. "Hey; I'm injured over here. You're not supposed to hit the injured."

"I'll file that under advice," she said, a miniscule smile flitting over her face.

"So… why exactly are you here?" I asked, seriousness creeping into my voice. "I mean, I'm very flattered that you would make such a trip just to see me, any of you; but it makes no sense to me."

She crossed her arms and hugged them closer. "Is it so hard to believe that we care about you?" she asked flatly.

I frowned at her. "No, of course not. I know you, after all, but I just don't get it." Then I lowered my tone, mindful of the others around us could hear. "That General who threatened you? If it is who I think it is, those threats are no joke. You will never see the light of day, even if you slip up just a little bit. No offense to your dad, but of the two of you, he's the one I would have expected to be a bit reckless. I don't want any of you to throw your lives away for me, that's all."

"Why do you keep doing that?" Alexis asked and started shaking her head. "Why do you keep pushing us away like this?"

Her voice started to raise a little bit with that, and heads were starting to turn in our direction. Vincent was standing off to the side, trying his hardest to appear occupied with anything else than listening in on our conversation. I sighed and started rubbing her arms softly, in what I hoped was a soothing motion. At least she didn't pull away. "I get that you are upset, Alexis. But this is not the place to discuss this. Let us go somewhere quiet, and I promise that we will talk as soon as we get there. Scout's honor."

The young woman frowned at me. "I didn't know you were a boy scout."

I smirked a little. "I wasn't; but I'd like to think I would've been a good one."

This time, I couldn't move out of the way when she smacked my chest with the back of her hand. Alexis fought the smile, but only succeeded partially. I was used to defuse situations with my wit and humor, but this felt different. Not that I hadn't confidence I could do it, but somehow I felt like it would cheapen the discussion we were about to have; I had only just used my gifts to get her to agree to change the location of said discussion, nothing more. Or so I hoped.

"Wait here for a sec, I'll be right back," I said and scooted over along the counter until I rested across from Vincent, who was furiously scrubbing the inside of a coffee cup and pointedly not looking at me.

"Hey, Vincent." The man in question almost jumped at my low-voiced greeting, even though I knew he knew exactly that I was coming. He seemed more than nervous; I couldn't fault him for that. No one should want to stand in the way of Alexis Castle's anger. "You okay?"

"Sorry," he offered with an apologetic smile, "I always get nervous when people argue in my café. I love the gossip that comes off it, but I do _not_ need to see it, you know?"

I nodded with a smile. "I understand completely. I have a plan to get the both of us out of your hair, though. All I need is one of your famous picnic baskets, the chocolate one if you have it prepared."

Vincent scoffed and rolled his eyes, his nervousness almost forgotten. "Do you even have to ask? I always have them in stock." He seemed to mull things over for a moment. "Although I must admit I haven't seen it used as a way to appease someone. Weird. Give me a second."

It looked like he wanted to disappear in the backroom again, but this time he only leaned around the doorway and grabbed a picnic basket, a complete wicker basket with a red and white checkered blanket draped on top of it. I grabbed it from his hands with a grateful smile and turned back around to the waiting Alexis.

"I'm not exactly in the mood for a picnic," she said, her arms still crossed as I walked back to her.

I sighed under my breath. "I can imagine," I whispered when I was close enough for her to hear me, "but please, humor me? I'll try and make it up to you."

She huffed a little bit, but it only took her a few seconds to come with, just long enough to let me know where things stood. I'd like to think that I took it in stride, but there were no mirrors around to confirm the wholeness of my game face. I took her down Einstein Street, up to a little park near the outskirts of town. Early along the way, she had taken the basket out of my hand, and hooked her arm under my elbow. I was grateful for both, since I was still incredibly sore and not quite able to walk on my own for longer distances.

Silently, I thanked the weather as well, for being so agreeable. Rain would've ruined this. A heat wave would've ruined this. If it had been too cold, it would've been ruined from the start. As it was, the weather was remarkably unremarkable for once. All that Alexis needed was her light woolen jacket that she already wore.

When we arrived at the park, I did a little happy dance inside my mind. My gamble with the time had paid off. It was still not even two in the afternoon, so the kids were still at school and GD's lunch break was over long enough that even the last stragglers had returned to their workplace. We had the whole park for ourselves.

Alexis set down the basket, and I started preparing everything for a picnic. Usually I would have taken my sweet time doing so, but I did promise her we'd talk _as soon_ as we'd arrive.

"I believe the last thing you said was something along the lines of, 'Why do you keep pushing us away?', right?" I asked softly as I laid out the blanket.

Both of us plopped down on it, Alexis a lot more gracefully than I did, which I chalked up to my injuries of course.

She nodded and started silently handing me the dishes, which I distributed along the blanket, and the various foods that Vincent had thought were essential for a chocolate picnic. Food for the soul, basically.

I sighed, and resisted the urge to rub my temples. I _so_ didn't want to do this right now. Not that I would ever wanted to; but still. "In essence, it boils down to a cliché, really."

"Fine; lay it on me," she interrupted, slightly flippantly, unknowingly parroting my own words to Doctor Blake from earlier today.

I shook my head. "You get the roundabout full version, not just the clichéd bottom line. As you already know, I started my new life as an information broker of sorts. Before that, I was a nobody, some loner IT student with semi-well grades. Then one day, I inherited a network of… 'spies' would be too much, let's just call them informants. They are more or less everywhere it matters, either paid off for information, or somehow indebted to me; or rather my predecessor, I should say. Not that any of them would know any better, they report to a ruse, an urban legend. A long lived one, I'll give it that, but there never was a real person actually living the alias as far as I could tell. Up until I took over, my… business… worked like a perverse mix of detective agency and auction house, either selling new information to the highest bidder, or finding specific information for a steep fee."

"Sounds bad," was all she offered, a single eyebrow raised. I winced, because that was an understatement.

"Yeah. I had nothing to lose from cutting off the shadier side of business though, the 'auctioning off trade secrets' and stuff is gone now. Today, it's really more of a pure detective agency, even though its methods might still be a little questionable. Nothing would be so complicated if it were still just my information network I have to worry about. It all changed on the day the charity gala you invited me to. When the bad guys came, they were looking for the same thing as a government sanctioned black ops team that was also on site."

A gross oversimplification and twisting the truth here and there, but nothing relevant to the larger scheme, at least where she was concerned.

"When I took the bad guys out, I was temporarily recruited by them, and I formed contacts, one thing led to another, and that's how I got into the intelligence community. Now and then, I take on contracts by them. Dangerous contracts, even; they had already seen me in action, and I held my own, so I'm not going to them as an information broker, but as an asset in the field. As you have already experienced from your end, things can get a bit dicey from time to time."

Most of Alexis' frustration had been thrown out of the window by now. Her face was riddled with concern for me, and I smiled at her for that, although it lost its brightness when I remembered what I was going to say next.

"I now work in a field where the people on the other side do not play by the rules. They will use anything, and any _one,_ they can find against me. You do not want to know what those people might do to you, or your family, just for being friends with me. If they take you hostage to exchange you against one of their own, you'd be _lucky,_ do you understand? Even just putting a sniper bullet in your heart from half a mile out would be considered a _mercy_ in comparison to the alternatives _._ Do you still wonder why I don't want that kind of life for you?"

I had half expected things to get loud. I just hadn't expected me the one to do it. By the end of my rant, I was barely not shouting, my agitation almost taking over. Some part of my brain wanted to bolt right now, as far away from Alexis Castle as I could, but I shoved that doubtful voice away with all my might. Chances were I would never find the guts again to open up to her like that, and I intended to fully exploit my temporary weakness. She looked like she was about to say something, but I didn't let her. This was a one-time offer by my brain, and nothing would stop me from taking it. I scooted closer, and grabbed her shoulders to stare into her deep blue pools; I felt like I needed the extra connection to get my point across.

"Do you think I could even live with myself if something happened to you because of me? I will do _everything_ in my power to keep _you_ safe, to keep _your family_ safe, to keep _Beckett and the Boys_ safe. If that means I need to keep you at arm's length, I will do so in an instant. It would break my frakking heart, and you know that too. I love you, and everyone is basically family now, and I don't know how to handle my new life in respect of my relationships. I'm a few weeks into it and I am already tired of it because I can't share it with you. The only reason I'm even still doing it is because I think it's important work that I do. I've been off the grid twice now, and I know you guys had to have been worried sick about me, but-"

"Jonny," she started, but I was having none of it.

"No, please. Let me finish. You wanted an explanation, and I know I've been kind of a dick about it so far, so I need to get this off my chest, you deserve that much, I-"

I didn't get any further, because Alexis shut me up the only way that would've worked in that instant anyway, which was capturing my lips with her own. At this point, my brain shut down, trying to compute what was happening. At least I had the presence of mind to reciprocate. That could've been awkward otherwise.

When we broke apart again after a relatively chaste kiss, she rested her forehead against mine, and I tasted salty splashes. Only after a moment I realized those were from both of us, and she was tasting them too.

She let out a watery chuckle. "You more than fulfilled the promise, Jonny." Her mouth turned into a wide grin against mine. "And by the way, before your brain shuts down completely, I love you too."


	3. Negotiations

**I originally wanted to end this chapter with a cliffhanger, but thought better of it. Instead, you get a (short) chapter full of fluff. Have a caries prevention plan at hand. Just saying.  
**

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 **Word count: 7569 words (over half of the Mini Ficathon Word Goal, yay!)**

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 **Chapter 3: Negotiations**

" _I love you too._ "

The words reverberated inside my head. She was not wrong in assuming my brain would shut down; and yet, not exactly right, either. I'd describe it as my brain disconnecting from the flesh sack surrounding it. I could still see through my eyes and feel most things, but moving anything proved impossible at the moment.

Then, in the refuge that my mind had created, it played back the conversation that led to Alexis saying, "I love you _too._ " While slightly hindered in capacity by the declaration, it still managed to recognize that her words implied something I didn't think I was ready to face. And yet, my voice had laid it out, in no uncertain terms, that I _loved her._

It wasn't a lie, that much was certain. Nonetheless, it seemed that my mouth had been faster than my brain in its agitated state, completely bypassing the censors I had carefully put up. Granted, those were usually busy filtering out my inappropriate jokes, but _still._ I was a secret agent, in theory. If being in distress was all it took for me to blab about stuff I didn't want the person in front of me to know, I wasn't a very good secret agent.

Or maybe it was just Alexis. That was a good guess as well. She did seem to have such an effect on me.

It took a moment to sink in. I told Alexis Castle, daughter to Richard Castle, that I _loved_ her. And I was not running away in panic. _That_ particular voice had been silenced quickly, among a few others. And she said those words right back. My mind was stuck in a loop, until I registered her lips moving.

"-you hear me? Earth to Jonny." I had caught the tail end of whatever she wanted to say and shook my head to get back to Earth with my thoughts.

"Sorry. I had to take a moment to compute everything that just happened," I said and offered her a lopsided smile.

She raised an eyebrow. "Then I would recommend an update, you've stared at me with an open mouth for the last two minutes."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "And you did nothing to save me? Scandalous."

Alexis rolled her eyes. "I was just trying to be considerate and give you time to catch up to reality."

I closed my eyes and shook my head with a smile. I had rarely had the opportunity to see her sassy side, and I loved it. I opened my eyes again and stared into her icy blue orbs that were waiting for me to say something. "My brain thanks you. It has finally finished its analysis and wants me to ask you to shut me up again like you did before, to keep my mouth from getting me in any more trouble."

Her laughter bubbled up from deep within her throat, clear as a bell. "I'd be indeed doing the world a service by shutting you up."

I used the closeness we found ourselves in to snake my hand behind her head and softly pulled her closer, my voice dropping an octave to growling levels. "Shut up and kiss me."

* * *

When we broke apart again, we were both taking deep breaths to fulfill our lungs' need for air. Alexis' cheeks and every piece of skin up to her neckline that I could see was flushed a deep red, and I suspected myself to not look any better.

"If this is how we shut each other up, I don't see us finishing many arguments," I muttered.

She stifled a laugh and rested her forehead on mine. "I agree. Although I will admit that I may have enjoyed it."

"I'll say," I said with a grin, but sobered up pretty quickly, despite thoroughly enjoying having our foreheads kiss. "We still haven't finished arguing... No, not that kind of arguing; Alexis Castle, get your mind out of the gutter right now."

Alexis chirped a laugh, but otherwise refrained from commenting, allowing me a moment to sort my thoughts before speaking up again. "I was serious before. People will try use you against me. My stomach is becoming an ice block just by thinking about what could be."

"Then don't think about it," she interjected softly, and started biting her lip.

I closed my eyes so I wouldn't be distracted by that very cute display and sighed deeply. "Please, Alexis. I'm freaking out right now. I don't know what to do. A part of me, a considerable part of me, wants nothing more than to sweep you off your feet and shower you with kisses and love, because there is no denying that I very much love you." Now that the cat was out of the bag, it was easier to say; and I liked saying it. "The rest of me is trying to stop me from doing just that by making me think of all the horrible things that could happen to you. And I hate it more than anything, because it's kinda working."

Soft hands reached up to my face which made me open up my eyes again, only to see that she had realigned our faces so we were looking at each other. I liked looking into her eyes; her irises weren't completely blue, but had a black rim that made the blue inside 'pop' even more. It looked beautiful. "Listen to me," she said sternly, "I acknowledge your argument, but given that it is a stupid argument, I will ignore it. I am aware of the danger this would put me in, but that won't keep me from you. I am eighteen now-"

"Wait, eighteen? Did I miss your birthday?" I interrupted her. "When did that happen?"

"While you were out doing god knows what and I had to play your girlfriend so that Detective Beckett had something to create a missing person case to find you; now shut up, I have something to say."

To say I was dumbfounded was an understatement. She pretended to be my girlfriend, so that Beckett had a case? I couldn't help it, I started laughing.

Her fist against my shoulder stopped that on the spot and I cleared my throat. "I'm listening," I assured her quickly. I congratulated myself on successfully keeping my mirth out of my voice and the smile off my face when I said that.

She crossed her arms. "Enough of that; My point is: I'm of clear mind, and capable of making my own decisions. I'd be very cross with you if protecting me is the only reason you don't want to date me. You informed me of the danger, and I acknowledged it in my decision whether or not to pursue a romantic relationship with you, but it hasn't changed the outcome. Now, do you want to be with me or not?"

I closed my eyes. This shouldn't be so hard. Why did I have to complicate things so much for myself? I leaned forward and touched our foreheads. "I love you." Damn, it felt good saying that. "I would love nothing more than being with you. But… you also make me… afraid."

I anticipated her wanting to say something, and instead pecked her on the lips without even bothering to open my eyes, which shut her up instantly. _Good to know it works both ways._ "I'm afraid of many things when it comes to you, most of them maybe not even rational. I'm afraid that I somehow muck it up. That some day you wake up and realize you can do better than me. That I lose you somehow. That I lose _myself in you._ That someone hurts you to get to me, or worse."

Finally opening my eyes, I gave her a small smile, her eyes slightly glistening. I was hoping not to make them fall. "But like a wise man once said, 'Eventually, your life _will_ catch up with your family. Make the most out of the time until then, and be ready when it happens, and maybe you won't end up a sad, old man'. Good advice, but hard to follow. I know I can be an ass about things sometimes, but if you really are serious, I'm yours, for as long as you'll have me."

Alexis sighed and leaned back on the blanket. "Finally."

That broke the tension and we both started laughing at ourselves. I think I had mentioned before that I maybe had a tendency to complicate things.

With the heavy topics out of the way, we finally had time and repose to enjoy the chocolate picnic I had brought. After that discussion, neither of us felt the need to talk while we decimated the food reserves in the basket. For once I shared a silence that wasn't awkward, and I reveled in it.

Things were looking good for me, basically for the first time since I landed here. There was no crisis to avert. No outstanding contracts to fulfill. I had a _girlfriend._ I was basically on medical leave for the foreseeable future, and I was determined to spend it on her. I would have probably dry heaved, had I looked at us from the outside. From the inside, I was perfectly fine with us behaving like lovesick teenagers. Not to mention that it was accurate as well. Freshly in love, and we were both teenagers.

I was always trying to steal glances at her, but it was not exactly enough. I snuck out my smartphone (Eureka was a paradise for tech nerds like me) from my pants and stealthily captured the moment. The afternoon sun was tangled up in her fiery red hair, lighting it up even more. There were no signs left of the tears we had shed together earlier, except for a little less makeup, but I didn't mind. She had her eyes closed as she popped the last piece of chocolate into her mouth, a smile dancing around her mouth.

She looked up at me when the phone played a sound to indicate that the picture had been processed. "What are you doing?" she asked, slight amusement lacing her tone.

I shrugged, completely unapologetic. "I took a picture, because it will last longer," I told her with a small chuckle. "You looked so joyful right now, and the sun shone in that perfect angle to light up your hair… I just couldn't help it."

Angling my phone so she could see it, I pulled up the picture that I had just taken. "I love it," she said, a bright smile on her face.

"Once I can get back to my apartment in New York, I can get my camera equipment," I told her and shook my phone. "This little thing doesn't do you justice."

Alexis rolled her eyes and scoffed. "That was a bit sappy."

I raised my eyebrow. "Too much?"

"Only a little bit," she said with an indulgent smile.

* * *

 **"If you love a character, you give them pain, ruin their lives, make them suffer. Maybe even throw in a heroic death!" - Varric Tethras, author  
**


	4. Upset

**This chapter contains the scene that made me write this story in the first place. I'm publishing this now because I have the next chapter well under way. _Please_ remember: I have a plan.**

* * *

 **Revised word count: 9494 words**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Upset**

 _A few days later_

The image on the screen adjusted as the two teenagers who stepped out into the open afternoon sun came into focus. "What should we have for dinner?" the young redheaded woman asked while they started walking to the parking lot, her voice slightly tinny over the small speakers.

The young man gave her a lopsided smile and patted the bag he had slung over his shoulder. "I convinced Vincent to part with some of his ingredients. I was thinking maybe I could cook us dinner?"

That made her raise her eyebrows. "I thought you only bake."

He shrugged, and let his smile grow a bit. "I dabbled a bit. Enough to feed you for tonight at least."

A quick laugh bubbled up from her throat. "By all means, then. Please lead the way, Chef Ramsay."

Gerthson threw her a sideways glare. "I resent that comparison. I'm way nicer, even when faced with unruly kitchen helps. Especially then."

Alexis stopped walking for a moment. "Oh, so now I'm an unruly kitchen help?" she asked with a laugh, hand planted on her hip.

He gave her a wink. "I'll make it up to you with food?"

"It better be delicious," she scoffed and crossed her arms. "And you do the dishes afterwards."

"Deal," he said with a grin and opened the door to his car for her.

They both climbed in and drove off, the camera shutting off once they were out of its sight, and another camera taking over the video feed seamlessly.

"What kind of town is this exactly, where you can just get a house like yours on the fly?" Alexis asked as they drove down Fourth Street.

Gerthson swallowed hard, but his passenger didn't seem to notice it. "It's less of an actual town. The grounds are owned by a company, and they offer their employees houses on site. They have a lot of government contracts, especially top secret stuff, so keeping their employees close together makes it easier to maintain security. They just gave me one of the empty homes for the time I spend here recuperating. And this car. And if I told you more, we would both get into trouble with that nice General you had a talk with before you came here. You know that; I told you I can't tell you more about the work I do the last time you asked about that."

She gave a noncommittal hum at that, and the rest of the drive was spent in silence; all three minutes that were left.

Yet another camera picked them up as they came through the front door of the single-story house. Jonathan Gerthson, secret agent, dimensional traveler, gourmet cook on the rise, ushered Alexis into the living room while he ducked into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Alexis rifled through the vinyl collection and pulled one out after a moment of consideration. "Is Coltrane okay?" she shouted into the kitchen.

A face peeked out from the doorframe seconds later, Gerthson sporting a wide smile. "Perfect!"

She put the record on and made herself comfortable on the couch. The last rays of the afternoon streamed in through the windows, but they were already giving way to the twilight of the sunset in Eureka. Ten minutes into the record, she stood back up again and turned on the lights, dimming them to half power.

She nodded off to sleep soon after, the soft cushions of the couch proving to be too enticing. Half an hour later, she was softly woken up with a kiss on the temple over the back of the couch. "Dinner is ready, babe," he whispered into her ear.

When he led her to the kitchen, she could see the dishes set on the counter. She took a deep breath through the nose, and smiled. "This smells good. What is it?"

He pulled out the chair for her. " _Salmon en croûte_. Salmon fillets filled with herb butter and covered in a thin pastry. Also, not my own recipe," he added with a smirk. "It's actually one of Gordon Ramsay's."

She swatted his chest with a laugh. "I knew it! And you were offended when I called you that earlier."

He took the hit in stride and chuckled. "Firstly, pretended to be. Secondly, regardless of his manners he shows on tv, he is still a pretty amazing cook, and I'm not above cooking one of his recipes. Now eat while it's still hot."

She took a bite and took her time chewing it, with a careful mask of indifference on her face. "And? How is it?" he asked a few seconds in, anticipation evident in his expression as he watched her intently.

Alexis gave him a curt nod. "Adequate." Seeing his fallen face, she couldn't hold it in anymore and started to laugh. "Relax, I'm kidding. It's very good, I like it."

"Thought as much," Gerthson grumbled with a smile.

A few minutes into the meal, Jonathan Gerthson laid down the cutlery and leaned forward, a conspiratorial smirk on his lips. "Alexis, I was wondering. While we're on the subject of food, if you were stranded on a deserted island, what kind of sandwich would you take with you?"

Alexis paused mid bite, lowering the fork slowly back onto her plate and frowned at her boyfriend. "What kind of _sandwich_ I would take on a deserted island? What kind of question is this?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "A serious one. It's a good way to judge someone's character. And don't tell me your father hasn't asked you weirder ones, because I know for a fact that that's not true."

They both laughed at that, and consequently launched into a heated discussion about whether taking a sandwich with mayo would be the best thing ever or just simply disgusting.

Suddenly, his eyes glazed over and his stare seemed a million miles away. "Jonny? Everything okay?" Alexis asked.

He shook his head and smiled slightly. "Sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment. I need to go to the bathroom, I'll be back in a jiffy." He winked at her. "In the meantime, please don't let the food go to waste."

He stood up and left her alone with their food. Alexis gave his retreating form a puzzled stare. She listlessly stirred her fork around in her food without eating much, but that lasted for less than five minutes. Then she stood up and went to check up on him.

When she arrived at the bathroom, she could hear the water running. When she tried to open the door, she found it locked, which made her frown a little. She gave the doorknob a testing shake for good measure, but it didn't budge, as expected. Before she could do anything else, the door unlocked and Gerthson ripped the door open, almost running into her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, a confused look on his face as he steadied her by gripping her shoulders.

"Just wanted to check on you, see if you're alright," she murmured as her gaze slowly dropped from his eyes to his lips, them snapped back up to his eyes.

His confused frown as well as the tension he seemed to have stored in his shoulders melted away, as he dipped his head and slightly tilted it to capture her lips with his own.

The kiss barely lasted two seconds before he pulled back again, the corners of his mouth slightly twisting up. "I'm fine, Alexis, just a little stressed from the implants; but thank you for asking."

"Anytime," she breathed, pale cheeks brightly flushing.

He started caressing her shoulders and pulled her closer. "I was thinking, it is going to be such a beautiful night; I really want to go see the stars. Do you want to come with?"

She only nodded wordlessly at him.

"Pack your jacket," he told her over his shoulder, already on his way to the door, "it's already getting cold outside."

Within a few minutes, they were both dressed for the crisp autumn night and out of the door. "Where are we going?" Alexis asked as they got into Gerthson's car.

"I've been in this town before," came the cryptic reply, a small smile radiating off of him while he started the engine. "I know my way around here."

They were driving for a few minutes when Alexis frowned at the view out of the windshield. "Well, now you can tell me where we're going, right?"

Jonny gave her an amused look. "What, are you suddenly afraid of surprises?" he chuckled. "But fine, I don't want to _scare_ you or anything. There is this beautiful little meadow just outside of the town border, the light pollution is basically-"

" _No!"_ Alexis said forcefully, and flushed a little when her boyfriend gave her a flat look. "I mean, you were told to stay in town, right?" she argued, a little bit more subdued. "What if they take away your implants because you left the town?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "This is not 'leaving town'. They obviously meant that I can't go to New York for example. Spending an hour or two maybe half a mile beyond the town border is no big deal."

"And what about the EMP shield? Won't that mess with your implants?" she asked.

His eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline as he cast a sideways glance at her. "I don't even want to know how you learned about that one," he deadpanned. "But no. The implants are technology that has been developed in-house, so there shouldn't be any problem with the shield."

Gerthson slowed down and stopped the car at the curb. "Nonetheless, I think it would be best if we turned around," he told her with a sad smile. "I can tell this is upsetting to you, and I don't want to take any unnecessary risks. And you are well within your right to err on the side of caution when I'm involved, especially now that we're together." That had them both chuckle.

They clasped hands for a second over the center console and Alexis gave him a silent nod and smile. He turned the car around and drove back the way they came. With no traffic in this seemingly sleepy town, it only took them a few minutes until they were back in the driveway.

When they were through the door, Gerthson snaked his arms around Alexis' waist and pulled her close. "I'm sorry," he mumbled between kisses.

"I'm sorry, too," she muttered. "I know that you would have loved to go there."

"Don't worry," he said with a sad smile and pulled back, his hands moving up to caress her face. "Always remember that I love you above all else, Alexis."

The redhead had no time to reply, as the strong, muscled hands that were caressing her just moments ago grasped her head in a vice like grip, pulled up and twisted _hard,_ all in a split second _._ An audible snap told of her fractured vertebrae and a severed spinal cord. An expression of surprise was frozen on her face as her unresponsive body dropped into his arms, her head hanging back at an odd angle.

Gerthson slowly slumped down in the corridor with the still warm corpse of Alexis Castle in his arms. He broke into tears as he was resting on the ground, gently stroking her back. "I'm so sorry," he sobbed repeatedly into her hair.

* * *

 **Please don't kill me?**


	5. The Other Side Of The Mirror

**I think this chapter will clear up most of the confusion from last chapter :)**

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 **Revised Word Count: 12,153 words**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: The Other Side Of The Mirror**

 _Undisclosed location, earlier that day_

Three shadows, clad in black and faces concealed with ski masks, moved without sound through the treeline. Only one of them had the distinct curves of a woman, the other two were men; one was tall and lanky, the other one was of almost the same height, but way more muscular. The sight ahead was a clearing far off of any of the main streets in the area. The last remnants of afternoon sun were almost completely swallowed by the dense canopy above their heads. The few guards that had been patrolling the perimeter were already dealt with, but their main objective still lay ahead.

In the middle of the clearing stood an old, little house. From the outside, it looked almost decrepit, with gnarled vines that had taken over the broken blinds. One of the figures stared at a monitor on his wrist and ushered them all forward with a hand motion. The other two took position at the front door, the steel less rotted away than the rest of the house would, and should, have made a casual observer believe.

The left figure prepared some off-white mass roughly the size of a snowball between the lock and the frame. He pulled out a silenced pistol as he stepped to the side, while the right one counted to three on her fingers. On three, the steel door crumpled inward with a muffled bang, the material having little chance to stand against plastic explosives. Once they climbed over the crushed remains of the door,the two of them that were armed started methodically clearing the building.

Room after room, a barely audible "Clear!" hissed through their comms, until every room of the house was confirmed to be devoid of life.

Unlike the outside of the house, the inside was everything but rotting. Clean, sleek metal surfaces dominated the interior design. This building was, while not designed for such an application, filled to the brim with modern technology. Due to space constraints, it seemed haphazard in some corners, like that one bundle of cables that was held aloft above some work tables with zip ties, which had been stapled into the thin walls. Whatever the purpose of this safehouse, it was clear that it couldn't be good, by any means. Even a medical tent had been prepared in the middle of the house, with several different surgery tools neatly lined up on a tray nearby.

The third member of the strike team, aided by the monitor on his wrist, motioned to a barely noticeable indentation on the floor; one of the others came and heaved open the trapdoor to a cellar.

They carefully walked downstairs, guns drawn. Had the area on the surface looked like an ambulant surgery suite, this looked like a _server farm_.

In the middle of the only room of this cellar, on a gurney padded with blue glowing gel packs, they found an unconscious Jonathan Gerthson, various sensors and electrodes attached to his skull. Behind him, ducking behind some equipment, was Beverly Barlowe.

The third masked figure, the only woman of the group, pulled a pair of massive looking handcuffs from a pouch on her hip while the others kept their guns trained on the cowering woman.

After quickly weighing her chances, Beverly's shoulders sagged and she held out her hands, ready to be cuffed. The cold metal snapped around her wrists and she was roughly pulled to her feet.

One of the men shook her by the arm, his fingers digging into her biceps. "What did you do to him?" he almost snarled at her.

She glared up at the taller man, her jaw set in a firm line. "My only commitment is to the truth; that's what I needed from him."

"That's not what I asked," he growled, gripping her even harder. His partner put her hand on his arm, making him loosen his grip a bit.

Beverly sighed. "This is just a damned test run; I figured I would use someone I knew would have knowledge of secrets my group was interested in, and since Jonathan here was the easiest one to obtain on the list, the choice was easy." She glared at the still masked man because he tightened his grip on her again, obviously dissatisfied with her answer. "I'm getting to the point, you can leave me unbruised. Now, the machine that he is hooked up to is a virtual reality simulator. If you just pull those neuro-connectors off of him, he dies. You _need_ me to get him out of there. Let me leave, and I will pull him out."

The third masked figure had let the others handle things, content to stay in the back. Only now he stepped out of the harsh shadows of the blue lighting and pulled off his ski mask. It revealed an older gentleman, his greying brown hair wildly tousled by the mask and a kind smile on his face that didn't seem to fit the situation. His companions growled warningly at his reveal, but didn't speak up.

"If we were with the government, we'd maybe think about it," he said with a chuckle. "Sadly, we're not; this isn't even for my own benefit, but merely a favor that has been called in. And as for your help: I think I'm more than capable of figuring this VRS out on my own, Miss Barlowe. You know, chances are not bad that I invented some of the parts you used in this little thing."

With that, he gave her back into the care of his companions and started working on the machine that Gerthson was hooked up to. "What should I call you then?" Beverly asked, obviously fishing for information.

The man currently leaning over the machine didn't even bother looking up. "I'd prefer it if you didn't call me anything. But, as you haven't killed Mister Gerthson, I suppose you have at least earned that much. You may call me _Orion_."

Since he wasn't looking at her, he completely missed the look of surprise and recognition that washed over her face, but he didn't seem to care either way. He was already completely immersed in the computer that was keeping Gerthson trapped.

* * *

Stephen J. Bartowski was a humble man, but he knew there were few people in the world who could match him when it came to computers. That made his current predicament even more infuriating. He should have cracked the controls of this Virtual Reality Simulator in a matter of minutes. He did get in, but the mainframe resisted any attempts of his to release its prisoner. He slammed his hand into the desk and cursed softly under his breath.

"Something wrong?" the woman accompanying him asked. He nodded once.

"I can't get through to the release command; it erects new firewalls faster than I can tear them down," he muttered.

"I won't pretend to know this as well as you do, Orion, but have you tried communicating with the target?" she offered.

Stephen's head snapped up from the display, and looked at her bright blue eyes in astonishment. "You are a genius," he said as a slow smile spread across his face. "Now I know why your fees are so high," he added with a chuckle.

Then he flipped a mental switch and became professional once more. "Get _her_ out of here, I don't want her here for this," he barked at the third member of his team and nudged his head towards Beverly Barlowe. "And don't let her out of your sight."

"Will do, boss," came the prompt reply, the man already pulling the cuffed former therapist towards the stairs.

Orion's eyes followed the two until they had disappeared to the ground floor, before he continued with the new plan like his subordinate had suggested.

Leaving the keyboard that was connected to the mainframe in peace, he wiped over his wrist computer to wake it up, his fingers flying over the digital keys relentlessly until he had established a wireless connection.

Not that there was anything wrong with the physical keyboard in front of him, but his wrist computer had the distinct advantage to have an integrated microphone. He hadn't seen any headsets lying around, so he wanted to be on the safe side. The subroutines he had worked on for two decades would find a way, even if the system wasn't meant for direct communication.

Orion pulled up the several cameras inside the simulation. No wonder this was just a prototype, if they couldn't even have been bothered by the fact that they were relying on stationary 'cameras' to observe Gerthson. Probably was saving them a lot of processing power. VRS were fickle systems, and every last bit of extra power was helping.

If he was correct in his assumptions, and he usually was, at least when technology was concerned, then this system would not have another input option. For that reason alone he was already glad that he brought his wrist computer along with him on the mission today. That, and the exotic particle detector he had borrowed from Henry helped as well. Not that many people had any use for that, but at least Jonny Gerthson lit up on the thing like the christmas tree at Rockefeller Center.

There was a lot of converting data streams involved, but it all culminated in his voice being essentially a stream of garbled electronic noise, worse than the cheapest of cheap walkie talkies. It was the best he could come up with on the spot, but it would have to do. Just rigging something up that would bypass all the usual protocols gave him a slight thrill, reminding him of the good old times.

The mainframe had no doubt not even realized what he was doing. Apparently contacting the inmates of this virtual reality was a foreign concept for those people, further cementing his opinion of them. They played with technology they did not understand. He had had no qualms dealing with the Ring, anyway, but this… they were playing on his home turf and he did not like it one bit.

Stephen swapped the camera view as the person whose body was just a few feet away from him sauntered into the kitchen of the little house, a cute albeit slightly sleepy redhead following him suit. He waited for a few moment, trying to find a lull in conversation to start his attempt. He allowed himself a short glance on the clock on his wrist computer.

The plan had gone off without a hitch so far. Which meant that they were bound to hit a snag before the end of the day, he just knew it. They still had ample time before that the inevitable change of guards, but he still wanted to be out of here before the next shift found the bodies. It had been slightly foolish assaulting the safe house with only two of his people, but time had been of the essence. Besides, while this was no doubt a very important project for the Ring, they did not expect to be found here. Not to mention that too many guards would've raised questions he was sure they weren't keen on answering. All they did was provide target practice for his operatives.

Still, there was no harm in being cautious. His eyes and ears went back on the screen when he heard laughing. The discussion in question apparently revolved around sandwiches, of all things, and which one would be the best to bring along to a deserted island. He was mostly a BLT guy, but he could also understand how people wouldn't want to do without mayo. He could vividly remember witnessing a similar discussion between his son and his son's best friend Morgan about the very same topic. From what he had heard from Ellie, it seemed to be a regular question between the two of them, reaching back for years.

He smiled slightly before bringing his wrist computer to his mouth. "Jonathan, can you hear me?" he asked, trying very hard to properly enunciate the words so that Gerthson could hear him even through the electronic noise. On the monitor, he could see how the young man stilled. The redhead didn't realize he had stopped talking, but the man looked like he was thinking a thousand miles a minute. Eventually, she called him out on it, and he started a retreat. To the bathroom.

Gerthson locked the door behind him, and crossed his arms. "Who are you, and how did you get inside my head?" he hissed, obviously concerned someone might hear him.

"My name is Orion. You are currently inside a Virtual Reality Simulator formerly operated by Beverly Barlowe. My colleagues and I are working on getting you out of there, but we need your help."

He saw the young man's eyes bulge at the mention of Orion, and noted silently that the name wasn't a blank page for him, filing it away for later. For now, other things were more important.

Gerthson started pacing inside the bathroom, a shaky hand raking through his hair.

"This is either me reaching my breaking point and I have completely lost my mind, or I'm in the Matrix," the man in the simulation muttered, barely loud enough for the mainframe to pick it up.

Suddenly, several warnings popped up on the screen, complaining to the user that the subject may have discovered the true nature of his surroundings. Stephen was quick to click those warnings away. Apparently the wiretapping software in this thing pinged on saying stuff like being in the Matrix. Good to know. "Okay, son, no more mentioning the Matrix, the mainframe does not like that," he told him.

Gerthson nodded, turned around and turned on the faucet, which added another source of noise in what Stephen thought was an attempt to confuse the wiretap software. Probably futile, but generally not a bad idea. "I'll bet," the younger man said. "Now, I need to confirm your identity, because if you are some sick bastard who just hacked my implants and I act on your information, the shit will hit the fan. For both of us."

"That's reasonable," he allowed, "but how do you intend to do this? No offense, but in case you haven't heard, Orion is not my real name."

That had Jonny chuckle despite the situation. "I work with Agent Carmichael. I don't know how to say this delicately, but based on my research, I have a pretty good idea who you are. Therefore, which poker based sentence would you always say to your son?"

Stephen pulled away from the monitor as if he was burned as Gerthson said that. "Aces, Charles… You're aces," he muttered, and repeated himself again so that the mic could send it into the sim.

Gerthson sighed. "Okay. Fine, you're the real deal, and honestly I have no idea how to feel about that. And the fact that I can hear you in my mind helps as well. Now, what do we do?"

Orion straightened up as he laid out his plan. "First, try to get just a little bit out of town. The mainframe will probably try to stop you, because it would seem that it doesn't have enough processing power to reliably simulate outside of the town border. It has no reason to kill you yet, so they will try to stop you nonviolently for now. It's up to you how to handle that. The minute it learns of your plans, it will start rendering the scenery so that you can go there once it is done. It will stall you for time. With its capacity needed elsewhere, we overload the systems and the mainframe should eject you as a safety measure."

"Alright," he sighed and turned off the faucet. "Here goes nothing."


	6. Facing the Truth

**This chapter gets us over the 15,000 word mark, marking the end of the Castle Ficathon 2017 for me, and the end of this story. This chapter was supposed to be a lot shorter, but I got carried away :D But hey, you get the longest chapter I have ever written in exchange. 4,6k words. This has been fun, and you will get another story that continues this universe. Eventually. Maybe next Ficathon? ;)**

* * *

 **Revised word count: 16744 words**

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 **Chapter 6: Facing the Truth**

Orion was surprised that he agreed to the plan so willingly. _He_ knew that the plan was solid and thought through (mostly), but from the outside looking in, especially without all the information that he had, it did kind of look like a harebrained scheme. He would take his wins where he could get them, and if it was off a man still in shock from being told he was living a virtual lie, he would take it, anyway.

He observed in the simulation how Gerthson enticed Alexis into a nightly trip (he had learned her name and their relationship through listening in); it seemed inconspicuous enough that she would have no reason to suspect him of knowing that he was in the Matrix.

The two teenagers drove for less than ten minutes before Jonny caved and told her where he wanted to take her. A small meadow _outside of_ town; of course, she objected immediately. Judging from the look on Gerthson's face, only now it had really sunk in what was happening. Stephen had been in the spy business for the better part of his life, more or less of his own free will. His heart went out to the young man, for he had been in a similar situation once. Except his story, unlike Gerthson's, had had a chance of a happy end.

It wasn't easy to win the heart of a trained CIA operative; it was impossible to seduce a mainframe.

When Jonny gave in and drove back to his house, Orion started the process of overloading the mainframe, trying to get it to spit out Gerthson. It took the system all of three seconds to start blaring alarms and almost immediately shut him out.

That shouldn't have happened. His plan relied on him being able to undo whatever the system did to stop the overload. Now, things could get a little dicey.

"Jonathan, can you hear me?" he almost-yelled into his wrist computer. The young man winced slightly, and nodded minutely. Orion grimaced. He had started to panic a bit, and in his panic directly shouted in Gerthson's brain. He stopped for a second, took a deep breath and calmed himself down a bit. At least the audio feed still worked. The plan could still work; he would just have to improvise. Still, he needed to inform Gerthson.

"The plan has been compromised. The system has shut me out almost completely. Assume everyone here is hostile; you're the only human in the system. The virtual intelligence will try to detain you, and you will be gone forever if that happens. I'm sorry, that includes virtual Alexis as well."

He knew what he was asking of him, and he could feel himself starting to shake slightly, until the woman next to him laid a calming hand on his shoulder. _Right,_ he thought, _the plan._

"Thank you," he offered gratefully, to which the woman nodded and stepped back from him, leaving him to his work. He could see a lot of his wife in her. That thought made him smile, despite everything. It also offered him a point to focus on, his mind now clearing and adapting on the fly to the new situation.

He saw on the monitor how they had just arrived at his house and were stepping into the entry hall, and Gerthson was pulling his girlfriend closer. He frowned at the screen. They knew something was up, yet this virtual Alexis was not openly hostile. He tapped the side of the monitor and turned the volume up.

"Always remember that I love you above all else, Alexis," Gerthson was whispering right now. With a motion that was over so quickly that a casual observer could have easily missed it, he snapped her neck, fast and efficient. Orion had his eyes wide open, and for the first time he was wondering just who the man was he was busting out today.

This had not been the first neck this man had snapped, that much was clear. And yet, the young man kept clutching her corpse to his chest and slumped to the ground with her. Bumping up the volume another few notches, he could hear him sob apologies into her red hair.

"Jonathan," he said, not quite yelling, but hopefully loud enough to penetrate Gerthson's stupor. "You need to get out of there, we are doing everything we can to overload the system, but it's not going fast enough."

At first, he thought Gerthson hadn't heard him. Then he carefully laid down the dead body on the floor, and pulled himself up. "How can I help?" he asked hoarsely after a few seconds of silently staring at Alexis, wiping the moisture from his eyes.

"Anything that needs more rendering than usual. Explosions, for example."

Jonny shook his head. "No can do. The only explosives are either at General Dynamics headquarters or at the Sheriff's Office."

The cameras showed his stare suddenly seeming empty, before he blinked rapidly and snapped his fingers. "Irene Demova!" he muttered, as if i´the name was the greatest revelation since wifi.

Unseen by Gerthson, Orion raised an eyebrow, as did his companion. "Care to elaborate?" It seemed improbable that he just spouted the name of a pornstar without reason.

"The Irene Demova virus. If this is really what you think it is, then this is what you need. Particularly nasty fellow, overloads and fries computers in mere seconds. I just hope with how advanced this thing is, it will still have enough juice to get me out of this hell."

Now that Gerthson mentioned it, Stephen had indeed heard of this virus. Especially since his Chuck had used it once. Once his son had learned of his secret identity as Orion, he held nothing back in telling all the crazy things he had done and succeeded in. Flying helicopters, stopping weaponized satellites with Missile Command, among others, and of course defusing a bomb in downtown Los Angeles with the notorious Irene Demova virus.

He was damn proud of his son, so there wasn't even a question if they were going to do this. "I'll do it."

"Wait," Gerthson stopped him. "If this thing fries with me still in here, chances are I'm gone for good as well. I need you to inform some people of my demise. First, General Beckman, of course. Then my team on the west coast. Then... the real Sheriff Jack Carter, former U.S. Marshal; you'll find him easily enough. Those, you can tell the real story. Jack… tell him, if someday a space mission goes awry, he will now know what to look for."

Orion was listening with eyebrows well into his hairline. This was turning out to be a very informative endeavor.

Undeterred by his reaction, Gerthson continued. "Then my team at the Twelfth Precinct in New York City. Those will take it worse, since they are not privy to most of the information of what happened to me. Give them something so they won't look into this as one of their cases, and make it good. I'm not so conceited that I would think I rank as high as Johanna Beckett, but even if Detective Beckett and I don't see eye to eye on most days, I'm still somewhat of a friend. She will look for justice for me, and consequently would get herself and perhaps others killed over me."

He waited for a few seconds before he turned his head down sheepishly (it was hard to look away if the voice was in your head and you had nothing to look at). "That'd be all. Continue, please."

"That's quite alright," Stephen chuckled. "Although I would advise you to consider a spy will. One of those will probably make any other rescue attempts less wordy."

That had Jonny throw his head back and laugh, but that only lasted a few seconds, that is until he could hear sirens outside the building. Blue and red lights flashed through the windows, and moments later the artificially amplified voice of Sheriff Carter droned through his temporary home. "Come out with your hands above your head, Gerthson. And make it quick; I don't want to need to send in Jo."

It took only a few seconds until he heard a shotgun being loaded. So much for quick. Gerthson took cover behind a wall and flinched instinctively as the first shot tore down the front door. "Now would be a great time for your plan!" he hissed for the voice in his head. Louder, he addressed the woman stalking through the remains of the door, "Ever heard of knocking, _Josefina_?"

The deputy snorted, "That _was_ me knocking." Another shotgun blast rang through the hallway, Gerthson ducking down as chunks of the wall rained down on him.

Outside the simulation, Orion plugged in a cable from his wrist computer. "Mister Mainframe, meet Mister Internet," he muttered, as he pulled up the virus-riddled website of Miss Demova.

The lights in the server farm flickered for a second; inside the simulation, things started to go haywire instantly. Jo glitched through the wall separating her from Gerthson, who was now staring at the Terminatrix with wide eyes. She leveled her monstrous shotgun at his face and he was waiting for his moment to strike, but instead of pulling the trigger, the gun in her hands lost its texture for a moment and became only a wireframe model before glitching back to the normal gun. Then she cocked her head to one side and stared at him, mouth slightly open and eyes half-lidded.

"Oh, this sexy," she moaned with an Eastern European accent. "Oh. Hey, sexy."

The stupefied look on his face morphed into a smirk. "Goodbye, Miss Demova," he said with a wave as the world around him combusted into shards of crystals flying off into the darkness beyond the simulation.

Orion nudged his companion, who nodded once and went to look after Gerthson; if there was a chance that they got Gerthson out of there, now was the time. She felt for a pulse, which was there, and opened up one of his eyes. It reacted when she shone a penlight at it, which was a good sign.

A few seconds later, the young man sat up with a gasp, eyes opened up wide. The neuro-connectors were ripped right off his head by the sudden movement, but with the simulation crashing, any sort of feedback loop was basically out of question. He hoped.

The young man's hand snapped around the neck of the woman right next to him. "Who are you?" he asked flatly. His eyes were still frantically scanning the room, hopping from one object to another, before landing on her yet again.

"My name is of no importance," she replied calmly once she was certain she had his attention, the slightest lilt tinging her voice. "Other than that, it would be nice of you to let go of me."

She nudged him in the side with something hard, and as Gerthson looked down, he couldn't help the small grin that snuck its way onto his face. The object she had nudged him with was her pistol that was pointed at his stomach, no doubt able to easily tear through any organic material, such as his intestines. "Nice touch," he said still smiling and released her neck from his grip.

Then his gaze fell upon Orion. "Man, you have no idea how happy I am to see you," he sighed, his tense shoulders already sagging down.

"I get the idea, son," Stephen told him with a warm smile. "Your… west coast team, let's call them that, was sent on another mission, and when they realized you had been kidnapped, they called me. I called a few people, and here we are."

Gerthson snorted softly. "I don't believe that's all there is to it, but given that you just saved my life, I will let it slide. Now, how about that ride back home?"

With that, his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped down. He would've hit the floor too, if it hadn't been for the woman who had pointed a gun at him just moments ago.

* * *

 _New York City, a few hours later_

The sound of her neck snapping echoed through my mind when I felt a hand shake me. "I'm awake, I'm awake," I slurred, my thoughts still roiling from the nightmare.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Stephen J. Bartowski with a concerned look on his face. I waved it away. "Just a stupid nightmare."

A quick look around told me little; it was dusk outside, we were in the back of a van with no windows in the back, Orion was sitting across from me, and there was only a driver with us. Not the one who pulled a gun on me, either.

"Everything is going to be alright, Jonathan," Chuck's dad told me with a small smile. "You're safe now. And you can speak freely, the driver is one of my... personal assistants."

I raised an eyebrow at that statement and took a closer look at the man behind the wheel, now that the fog had cleared from my mind.

"Pleasure to meet you, Jonny," a familiar voice said with an audible smirk, "any friend of Chuck's is a friend of mine."

Bryce Larkin's piercing blue eyes laughed at me in the rear view mirror.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"I got better," came the laconic reply. _Damn, walked right into that one._

I shook my head. I didn't know why I was thrown for a loop. After all, I had seen (and been part of) stranger things.

I filed it away for later and went on like nothing had happened. "Well, if that's the case, then I'll be open with you both. I know about the intersect. Probably the most after the original team and Chuck. I have one too, and I am very confident that it is better than either the one in your brain or in Chuck's. I would like to show my gratitude, so if you'd like, I will arrange for you to take a look at the source code. It combines the effectiveness of yours with the added functions of the Intersect two point oh that Chuck uploaded, and all that without the risk of frying the user's brain or psychological issues. No hallucinations, and no paranoia, at least not in addition to what the job already requires."

He gave me a look that made me think of what I must've looked like when I woke up from the simulation, but he caught himself quickly. "And you're letting me look at the source code?"

I nodded. I had made a decision, and I would stand by it, even if my superiors wouldn't like it at all. I didn't care; the parameters had changed, and we weren't in the Star Trek universe with the whole 'No talking about the warp drive to people who don't know about it yet' thing. At least I hoped we weren't. I couldn't take another universe, or another wormhole trip.

Outwards, I nodded firmly. "Yes. You're a good guy, Orion. I know that the safety of your family stands above all else for you, and I know that you won't abuse the knowledge. I have sworn an oath to protect my people and their families. That includes you, _and_ Bryce."

Orion gave me a strange look (as did Bryce, I imagined), but he smiled after a few moments. "We can talk more later. For now, you need to know about your cover story for why you were gone."

With that, he started to explain my cover: I had been on an undercover operation in Western Europe to stop a terrorist attack. I did stop the attack, but had suffered head trauma while doing so. I was in an artificial coma for most of my recovery and only recently entered the country again.

The details were easily filled in. After Orion was satisfied with the extent of the cover, he tested and prodded me with questions, trying to trip me up. I think it would be a little bit too humble to only credit the Intersect for not messing up even once, but it certainly helped.

I had discerned from the few glimpses I could catch through the windshield that we were back in New York City, but it only dawned on me where we were when the car stopped and Stephen opened the backdoor to the street outside of Castle's loft, of all places.

"This is where my job ends," Stephen said with a smile. "Chuck and his team will come by once they are done with their current mission for a debriefing. For now, go visit your friends. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you. You ready?"

I snorted softly. "Oh, you mean ready to walk into the home of the person who a supercomputer deemed the best choice to honeytrap me? Including meeting her overprotective father whom I work with? Knowing I snapped her virtual counterpart's neck? Yeah, sure. I can't wait."

"Would you be more ready in an hour?" he asked. I silently shook my head no, since he had a point. "Then there's no use standing around, now is there? Off you go," he told me with a laugh and unloaded me onto the street with a shove disguised as a pat on the back.

I took a deep breath and made my way into the building, where the doorman greeted me with a probably fake, broad smile. "Mister Gerthson, what a nice surprise," he offered in greeting as he pushed the button to open the elevator for me. "It's been awhile since you've been around. It's nice to see you again!"

"You too, Damien," I said, his name being provided by the Intersect as part of Castle's dossier. "How's Greta?"

This time his face lit up with a sincere smile. "She's doing great, thank you for asking. Just started teething a week ago or so."

I gave him a small smile in return. "That's great. Give my regards to Phoebe."

Turning to press the button for the penthouse, I could see his grin from the corner of my eyes. "I will. Should I call on ahead?"

"Nope," I said and shook my head, "it's supposed to be a surprise. They don't even know yet that I'm back in the country."

He gave a short laugh. "My lips are sealed." That was the last thing I could hear from him before the elevator doors closed up again.

Bossa nova accompanied my ascend, as always. By now, I was accustomed to the music, found it endearing even. The time inside was spent bobbing to the rhythm, until the doors opened to the familiar entryway. I rang the bell, and waited.

The door opened to the sight of Richard Castle, dressed for a lazy night in (and perhaps an intense writing session) with sweatpants and a grey shirt. His eyes grew wide with recognition and his jaw dropped; it took him two long seconds to collect himself and snap his jaw back up into a wide smile. "Jonathan, come in!" He took a step back and ushered me in, closing the front door behind me.

I happily obliged and let myself be led to the couch, where he surprised me by pulling me into a strong hug. "I have no idea where you were, or what you did, but I'm glad that you're back," he said after releasing me. "We all missed you."

"Even Beckett?" I joked.

"Even Beckett," he confirmed, surprising me a little; "you'd think she'd be glad to have you gone for once, but it seems you've wormed your way in."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "I feel like I've heard that story before."

He only grinned at me and offered me 'the birds', which I quickly fed of course.

We migrated to the kitchen area after Castle declared that he needed a drink after the shock of seeing me alive. "You know, we half expected you to never show up again; for all we knew, you had ended up in a shallow grave in the middle of nowhere," he casually dropped as he expertly fixed himself a drink.

I sighed and my smile faded away. I had known this topic would come up - how could it not - but I had hoped to avoid it for a little while longer and instead bask a little in the company of friends (and almost more importantly, the absence of spies). "Look, by now you've heard a little bit about what I was doing while I was away. You've even met the people I work with. But even so, I can't tell you much. It's all highly classified. 'I have to kill you if I told you' level classified. You have worked with the CIA before, right?"

Castle nodded silently, which I took as my cue to continue. I laid my cover story out for him, at least the Reader's Digest version that "didn't contain classified information". His curiosity sated, we settled into a comfortable silence for a minute. Then, he asked me to go look for his leather bound notepad in his office because he just had an idea, and "if you didn't write it down, it never happened," or so he said; my Intersect begged to differ, not that I could tell him that. Nonetheless, I indulged him and went to fetch it. His office seemed less chaotic than I remembered, but I still needed well over five minutes to sift through all the stacks of books he had lying around for research. After that, I accepted that my mission had failed; I left his office with empty hands and returned to the kitchen.

"Don't worry about it," he said when he saw the look on my face and waved his smartphone. "I made a memo instead. Not as good, but at least the idea didn't get lost. I'm sorry to have sent you on a wild goose chase."

"I didn't mind," I laughed. "I always feel like the office is kinda your inner sanctum, so it was nice to visit."

He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked. "I gotta keep that in mind for the next time I have lost something in the chaos."

We both laughed at that. "Say, do you still like Chinese takeout?" he asked.

I snorted a little. "Are you kidding? Of course I do."

He started to grin and slapped my shoulder. "Perfect! The food delivery is already on its way."

I felt a tiny part of me already sounding the retreat, trying to get out of there right now; I clamped down on that feeling and nodded tiredly. "You know what, that sounds perfect," I sighed. He was still my friend, and I had been missing. The least I could do was accept his dinner invitation. Especially if it was Chinese food.

We sat down on the couch and he talked about his newest book, the next in the Nikki Heat series, until the doorbell rang. "Oh, that must be the food," he said and quickly stood up.

I sighed and leaned back into the cushion, the thought of hot shrimps keeping me calm.

"Yo, bro, not a day back in New York, and already lazing around again? I'm disappointed!" the familiar voice of Javier Esposito tearing me from my shrimps-filled daydream; I almost fell off the couch from the surprise.

"Yeah, you'd think he'd be more considerate of the people who have to actually work," snarked his partner Ryan, who stepped into the living room behind the latino Detective.

"Doubtful; he's back, isn't he?" Beckett brought the hammer down from behind her friends.

"Ouch, detective. That's harsh," I said with a bright grin on my face as I stood up. "And to think that I missed you guys… I think I have to reevaluate my choice of friends, if that's how you welcome me back."

Espo laughed. "Oh, poor baby. We brought you, and us, Chinese food as an apology."

I smiled. "Accepted." Then I threw Castle a shrewd look. "Ordering takeout, huh?"

The author shrugged his shoulders, completely unrepentant. "I didn't say that. I had the idea while you were looking for the notepad, so I seized the opportunity."

I chuckled. "I don't mind. Honestly, after all the shit I've been through, I think I have earned some shrimps." I glanced at Beckett. "You _did_ bring shrimps, right?"

She gave me one of her patented Beckett eye rolls, and I felt right back at home. "Of course we did. How could we not, knowing that _you_ would be here?"

Since I saw them standing closely together, I quickly crossed the few steps between us and pulled all three of them into an awkward hug. "This definitely calls for a group hug, guys. I've really missed you all."

"Let us go this instant, or I'm liable to shoot you," Beckett growled.

I chuckled, and did _not_ let them go for another five seconds. "You hate the paperwork more than hugs, Beckett. Your threats are empty."

"There you are, darling," Martha's voice rang through the loft shortly before I was pulled into a hug of my own, saving me from Beckett's retort. "So good to see you, Jonathan. We were worried sick about you."

Blushing, I looked on the ground. "Sorry, Martha. It's not that I go looking for trouble; trouble finds _me."_

I had made the mistake of letting my guard down, because as soon as I looked back up - and I really should have seen it coming - all I saw was a red blur; then I heard a sharp crack, then I felt the sting on my cheek, followed by a lithe redhead crushing me in another hug.

"You stupid idiot," she mumbled into my shoulder, voice already starting to crack before I felt the wetness through my shirt. "You promised not to do stupid stuff again."

"I said I'd try, and I will continue to do so," I whispered as I rubbed soothing circles onto Alexis' back, taking the slap in stride.

"Castle, have I told you lately that I like your daughter more and more every day?" Beckett joked, and broke the ice with that comment.

We had fun that evening. Honest to god, non-violent fun with friends and a good meal. With shrimps. It felt strange feeling happy again, but good. It felt good to be back home.

Over the course of dinner, I snuck glances at Alexis from time to time. I had gotten a glimpse of what life could be like if I took the plunge, and those memories didn't go away, no matter how hard I tried. It was very hard to deny that I was in love with her.

Things could go horribly wrong of course (for example the fact that I had to snap her virtual counterpart's neck hanging over me like a sword of Damocles), and given that it was me, the chances for that weren't small, but there had to be something about her that made the mainframe of the Virtual Reality Simulator think there was a good statistical chance that it would work.

The decision wasn't hard, and so my next mission was already chosen:

 _Woo Alexis Castle. The_ real one _this time._


End file.
